"See you when I got time to tell you how I chased a Nazi birdman right down on a British landing strip," O'Malley called after them.
"You've been stringing the kids along," Stan said.
"I gave them only a bird's-eye view o' the life o' the great O'Malley." The Irishman leaned back and surveyed the platter where the steak had been. "Now jest a wee bit of apple pie an' I'll have the edge taken off me hunger."
He ordered a whole pie. Stan ordered a steak and coffee. As soon as the orders were placed before them, O'Malley leaned forward.
"Sure, an' I saw the strangest sight today," he began. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it."
"What was it?"
"I was flittin' along over the tops o' trees an' the spires o' kirks when I zoom out over a wooded slope with a big cleared field in the middle o' the woods. There on that field was at least seventy Jerry fighter planes." O'Malley paused to cram a large bite of pie into his mouth.
"Fighter field. Did you get its location?"
"Sure. An' I thought I'd give those fellers a grand scare. There wasn't a plane in the air, so I was safe. I zoomed up an' over an' came down in a dive." O'Malley paused and shook his head. "You'd never believe it. I could hardly believe me own eyes. When I came back down to scare the daylights out o' them Krauts, there wasn't a plane on that field. They just vanished." O'Malley looked hard at his pie and kept on shaking his head.
"It's all right to tell that yarn to me, but don't ever tell it to a general," Stan said. "Did they all take to the air?"